


The House Of Black

by TheNightHunter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-14
Updated: 2012-07-14
Packaged: 2017-11-09 22:34:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/459229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNightHunter/pseuds/TheNightHunter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The eerie darkness and hatred gripped this place, in a way it could believed this house could be haunted…not by ghost though. Houses could be haunted in another way, somehow the anger, murder, and torture could drive a house mad, making it creak and groan under the weight of more hate being poured into it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The House Of Black

**Author's Note:**

> Needs a beta :]

The room was dark; there was something very wrong with this place, this house…and everything that was in this home. The place was heartless and cold just as were the people who lived within the walls. Anyone could see from the outside that it was a beautiful home, lavished with expenses and everything else that a large home might have. But on the inside when the farce of a happy home was no longer needed, it was a lonely place to be and often cruelty ran ramped within, it wasn’t unusual to hear a strangled cry of pain or despair echo through the hallways in the darkness; usually a house elf that had displeased the owners of the house in some way. Nothing about living here was pleasant, and it certainly wasn’t a place a child really needed to be. The eerie darkness and hatred gripped this place, in a way it could believed this house could be haunted…not by ghost though. Houses could be haunted in another way, somehow the anger, murder, and torture could drive a house mad, making it creak and groan under the weight of more hate being poured into it.

Sirius hated this place, every room, every piece of wood that constructed this place, and every shadow that filled the corners. This wasn’t a house for anyone to live in, anyone who had any sanity left in them anyway. He slid his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes; he only wished the holidays could go by quicker. His parents insisted that he come home every chance he had, he didn’t understand why though…As far as he was concerned they hated each other with a deep passion that was growing more out of control each day. He had no use for his parents, not when they were so harsh and cruel to anyone they thought of as beneath them. It made him sick; he only wished to be far away from them. He honestly couldn’t wrap his mind around any of the actions they had taken. His parents had a blood lust that seemed to be insatiable…their love of the dark arts and anything to do with the torture of muggles or anyone else they thought worthless…just didn’t make much sense to him.

He closed his eyes and tried to remind himself that he wasn’t like them in the least, he didn’t go out of his way to hurt people…unless they pissed him off something terrible. He was pretty in control of his anger, he wasn’t spontaneous with it if people pushed his buttons just enough…He could be unbearably cold and calculating if the moment ever called for it. He was very intelligent and very dangerous when he put his anger and wits together. No one had ever really had to deal with that side of him though; no one had ever really pissed him off that much…except for Severus, too bad for him really. Of course his plan hadn’t quite worked out the way he thought it would, he really only wanted to scare the idiot but he almost got himself killed. For a Slytherin, he had been pretty stupid.

He stopped his thoughts long enough to pull himself away from the window, it was so cold against his skin…and the wind seemed to be picking up, he sighed to himself and moved out of the empty room he was hiding in, to his own. He remained silent and somber; making sure no one would read what was going through his mind. He couldn’t allow anyone to use this mood of his against him, and knowing his family…they would and they would be anything but gentle about it. He shut and locked his door behind him and sat on his bed and glanced out the window as the wind continued to pick up. There was such an evil hatred around this house…that seemed to fill the very air that was within his lungs. He fell back against his bed and closed his eyes, he always hoped that when he woke up, he’d be somewhere else, but that was never the case…anytime he was here, time seemed to come to a complete stop and none of his wishes and dreams ever came true here. This place was very close to what Sirius thought hell would probably be like, misery filled every fiber of this house and of his being. It was suffocating, sometimes he felt like he couldn’t even breathe…the feeling was more evident when he was forced to spend time with his parents, they were just as cruel and calculating as he was…but they were like that all the time. Any and every weakness that could be spotted in anyone was viscously used against them; Sirius was no exception to this rule. If anything he was more at risk then anyone else.

He stared up at the ceiling for a long period of time, no thoughts really going through his mind anymore, he was tired of thinking, and tired of being here. He missed his friends at school more than ever around the holidays. Everything about Christmas was supposed to be happy and joyful. Around here, in this house, there was no such thing as joy…He didn’t understand how he had been able to be so happy when he was a child. He had been blind to how his parents really were; blind to the facts and horrid truths about this place he had once called his home. He didn’t want to live here anymore, he didn’t want to have anything to do with his family, he hated them, all of them because pretty much they were all the same when it came down to it.

He rolled onto his stomach and closed his eyes, sleep was never easy coming to him, and his dreams weren’t pleasant when he was here. Childhood nightmares and other night terrors filled his sleepless nights. No one ever paid attention if he happens to scream out into the night, no one came to comfort him here, because really no one cared. He clenched his fist and punched his pillow, it was no use…he would never feel completely happy again, not after being raised in a broken home like this.


End file.
